Chapter 8
Jiang Heng hid in the bushes. Through the crisscrossing branches, he saw the mischievous children carrying sticks walking away.
He quietly breathed a sigh of relief, climbed out of the bushes, and spat out the dirt and sand that had gotten into his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bus slowly driving away.
The bus was brand new and clean, standing out among the trucks, and he couldn’t help but take a few more glances, but it disappeared around the corner within seconds.
He looked away and headed back.
In the flower bed, Little White and Big Yellow had reunited. Little White was telling Big Yellow about what had happened today.
“There were so many people there, I’ve never seen so many people before. And a two-legged creature kept staring at me, that two-legged creature was quite good-looking…”
It turned around and saw Jiang Heng covered in mud.
If it weren’t for the familiar scent of its boss on the cat, Little White wouldn’t have believed it was him.
“Boss, what happened to you?”
Jiang Heng sprawled unceremoniously on the ground, flicking his tail, splattering mud onto the grass.
“Nothing, just ran into those brats again.”
It was the weekend, and those brats weren’t in school, wandering around the streets. Jiang Heng, having bad luck, bumped into them.
“You have no idea how dangerous it was. I was here, and those brats were only half a meter away from me…”
Afraid the two cats didn’t know how far half a meter was, Jiang Heng got up and took a few steps forward. “Just this far. They could have reached me with one hand.”
His voice was dramatic, like a storyteller. “The sky changed color, thunder roared, and those villains, with ferocious faces, cackled, ‘Run! Even if you run to the ends of the earth, you can’t escape my grasp!’”
“Little Jiang Heng was so small, no bigger than the villain’s palm. The power disparity was too great; it was destined to be a one-sided contest. The onlookers couldn’t bear to see Little Jiang Heng die and lowered their heads, shedding tears.”
It was the first time Little White had heard him embellish his heroic deeds like this, and it was utterly stunned.
“But who is Little Jiang Heng? He’s the one who will punch Sang Biao and kick Scarface in the future… uh, future cat! Even if he’s small now, how could a few mere brats handle him?”
“So, when the villain’s evil hands reached out for him, he nimbly turned, raised his sharp white claws, and scratched the villain’s face fiercely. As the villain cried out in pain, he made a nimble leap, jumped out of the children’s encirclement, and swaggered away.”
Jiang Heng looked up at the sky, his gaze deep. “From then on, a legend was born. He was known in the jianghu as… hiss!”
He turned his head. Big Yellow, who had been crouching behind him licking his fur, paused and, under Jiang Heng’s accusing gaze, looked down at his back.
“You’re injured.”
Jiang Heng looked back and saw a cut on his back that he hadn’t noticed before.
The cut wasn’t deep or long, but on the small, thin kitten, it looked particularly gruesome.
Big Yellow firmly pressed him to the ground and began licking the wound to disinfect it.
The cat’s barbed tongue scraped against the rain-soaked wound. The sensation made Jiang Heng, the puncher of Sang Biao and kicker of Scarface, tear up.
Little White circled around him. “You didn’t finish. What was he known as in the jianghu ?”
Jiang Heng hissed again, a few blades of grass caught on his whiskers, his voice trembling. “I…I haven’t thought of it yet. Do…do you think I should give myself a cool nickname?”
To distract himself, he started to think seriously. “How about Flower Arm? Black Back? Sang Biao is the name I gave to that tabby cat, maybe I’ll take it for myse… Ow! It hurts! Be…be gentle…”
He turned to look at Big Yellow. “Actually, Big Yellow, are you really an orange tabby? Do you have Siamese ancestry?”
Big Yellow stopped licking and looked at him quizzically.
Jiang Heng said, “You’re as diligent as a Filipino maid.”
Always licking fur, licking his own and then licking others’. Little White, who had been a stray for only two or three days, looked brand new.
Cats weren’t actually that intelligent. Even though they could communicate, most of the time, the two cats couldn’t understand what Jiang Heng was saying.
Big Yellow tilted its head and thought for a moment, then, giving up, continued licking.
Jiang Heng: “…”
Enough, he felt it was really enough.
Little White climbed up a nearby tree and started sharpening its claws. Jiang Heng, pressed against the grass, gradually became numb from being licked. He stared blankly ahead, his eyes unfocused, until a spasm jolted him back to reality.
He looked at the two cats and suddenly said, “I might be leaving.”
Both cats stopped moving. Finally, Little White asked, “Where are you going?”
Jiang Heng said casually, “Didn’t I say before? I plan to visit the university I didn’t get to attend.”
“I walked along the street for a long time this afternoon and found a bus stop. There’s a bus that goes to the city center. I plan to take that bus downtown, and then figure out how to get to the university.”
Little White asked, “Is it far?”
“Not far for humans, but probably quite far for cats.”
Jiang Heng flipped over and got up, taking the opportunity to escape Big Yellow’s heavy affection. “I’ve observed, the people at the orphanage are quite kind, and Big Yellow’s leg is almost healed. After I leave, you two go to the orphanage. You’re both clean, they will definitely take you in.”
Neither cat spoke. Little White drooped its tail, looking unhappy.
Finally, the older orange cat broke the silence. “So far, do you really have to go?”
Night deepened. There were no insects chirping in March; the air was quiet.
Jiang Heng grinned, a relaxed smile on his furry face. “Look, I’m just not cut out for being a stray. I can’t beg for food, I can’t fight other cats, and I can’t even hunt. I’ve made such a mess of myself in just one week.”
“There are so many students at the university, and everyone is so kind. If I just collapse on the ground, countless people will surely bring me food, and maybe even take me to the hospital for treatment…”
He comforted the two cats, “It’s not that I don’t want to take you with me, but I plan to sneak onto the bus without paying. There are so many people on the bus, if anything unexpected happens, we won’t be able to escape.”
Big Yellow lowered its head and started licking the blood oozing from his wound again. “When do you plan to leave?”
Jiang Heng licked his lips, tasting blood.
He said, “Tomorrow morning.”
If he didn’t leave soon, he was afraid he wouldn’t have the strength to go.
As time went on, he could clearly feel his body weakening. Loss of appetite, lethargy, constant nausea… But in contrast to his thinning body was his increasingly swollen belly.
If it weren’t for the severity of his illness, he wouldn’t have failed to notice those brats standing behind him.
There was no epic battle between Little Jiang Heng and the villains, only Jiang Heng’s desperate escape. If he hadn’t been quick-witted enough to hide in the bushes, he would probably have been roasted and eaten by those kids.
Later that night, a few stars faintly appeared in the sky, a sliver of moon peeking out from behind the clouds.
The March moonlight was icy cold.
Jiang Heng nestled in the grass, staring at the moon. The moon was still the same moon, but he didn’t know if the people were still the same people.
His worries were buried in the shadows of the moonlight, never revealed, not even to Big Yellow.
If he really wanted to pull a scam, there were plenty of people on the streets. Why go so far?
Sometimes, Jiang Heng didn’t even know whether he wanted to visit the university he hadn’t attended or something else.
He didn’t dare to think too much and knew this was a bit absurd, but a voice in his heart kept urging him.
Urging him to go and see.
It was almost two in the morning when Song Zhang arrived at the club.
He pushed up his glasses and stepped through the entrance, his eyes dark with exhaustion, his face pale and lifeless, a stark contrast to the energetic young men and women on stage.
It happened to be the manager’s shift today. He had seen Song Zhang a few times and remembered his face, so he came up to greet him. “Good evening, Mr. Song.”
Song Zhang raised his eyes and looked at him bleakly. “Do I look like I’m having a good evening? Where’s Lu Yichuan? Where’s that guy?”
The manager chuckled dryly. “Lu-ge is in his usual private room.”
Song Zhang went upstairs and easily found the private room the manager had mentioned. As soon as he pushed the door open, the strong smell of alcohol made him take half a step back.
He mentally prepared himself for a few seconds before pushing the door open completely. As soon as he stepped inside, he bumped into a few empty beer bottles with his foot. A man sat in a chair with his back to him, holding a bottle of liquor, his gaze drifting over the transparent floor-to-ceiling window, watching the men and women dancing on stage.
Hearing the movement behind him, Lu Yichuan turned slightly. Seeing that it was Song Zhang, he raised the bottle in his hand.
“You’re here.”
Song Zhang kicked the bottles away from his feet. “How much have you drunk?”
“Not much,” Lu Yichuan said lightly. “Just a little…”
Song Zhang: “…”
Who the hell calls a dozen empty bottles “a little”?
He said, “Lu Yichuan, I advise you to take it easy. What if you really drink yourself to death one day?”
Lu Yichuan took a swig of liquor, leaned back lazily in his chair, and closed his eyes slightly. “If I die, make it a grand funeral. Remember to burn some paper money for me.”
Sometimes, Song Zhang wished he could sew that mouth shut. He rummaged in his pocket, pulled out a bottle, and tossed it to him.
“I brought your medicine. Same as usual, different packaging. I put it in the vitamin bottle.”
Lu Yichuan put down the liquor bottle and picked up the bottle that had landed in his lap. His hair covered his eyes, making it hard to tell whether he was drunk or not.
Seeing him silent, Song Zhang couldn’t help but scold, “Don’t you have anything to say? I’ve been working overtime until one in the morning for a week straight, and then I have to rush all the way here to deliver your medicine. And you? Living it up here, drunk as a skunk.”
He pulled up a chair and sat next to Lu Yichuan. “And, didn’t I just give you your medicine not long ago? A month’s supply, and it’s only been half a month. How is it gone already?”
His expression turned serious. “Lu Yichuan, tell me, have you been secretly increasing the dosage behind my back?”
Lu Yichuan put the medicine away, tilted his head, and thought for a moment. “Have I? I don’t remember.”
Song Zhang: “…”
“Look! Look! Is that even something a human would say? What do you mean you don’t remember? Can you please care a little about your own health?!”
Lu Yichuan bent down to pick up the liquor bottle, found it empty, and casually grabbed a new one from the side.
He opened the bottle skillfully and tilted his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped it down, a far cry from the gentle, outstanding senior student he was during the day.
“Care? I’m caring quite a bit. Eating well, drinking well, enjoying life.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Dr. Song, go back and rest after you’ve delivered the medicine. Or do you want to stay and get drunk with me?”
Song Zhang, with dark circles under his eyes, rolled his eyes dramatically. “So I’m the stereotypical pushover doctor in a CEO novel? On call 24/7, used and discarded?”
Lu Yichuan chuckled and raised his bottle towards him. “Thanks. I’ll treat you to dinner another day.”
Song Zhang leaned forward and snatched the bottle from his hand. “Drink less. If you keep drinking like this, you’ll really die.”
His hand suddenly empty, Lu Yichuan curled his fingers, then retracted his hand, spreading it out languidly. “Wouldn’t it be nice to die? Save you the trouble of worrying about me.”
Song Zhang stared at him, opened his mouth, then closed it, finally sighing helplessly. “It’s been four years.”
The man lying beside him raised his hand to cover his eyes and sighed softly. “It’s already been four years…”
The private room upstairs wasn’t soundproof. The frenzied music from downstairs drifted up intermittently. Lights flashed on the dance floor, and as the rhythm reached its climax, some people even embraced and kissed.
Confusion and excitement intertwined.
Upstairs, there was only the bitter smell of alcohol.
“Lu Yichuan…” Song Zhang said slowly, “People need to move on. It’s been four years. How long are you going to wallow in self-pity?”
The lights flickered silently. Lu Yichuan turned his head and coughed. “Dr. Song, what are you talking about? I just published a paper with my tutor a while ago. Seminars, papers, work, I haven’t fallen behind on anything. How am I wallowing?”
Song Zhang scoffed. “Oh, really? Then tell me, why did you, a promising economics student, suddenly decide to study that bullshit philosophy?”
“Maybe because I have a deep love for philosophy.”
“Love my ass! You didn’t even know who Feuerbach was in college, and you’re telling me you love philosophy?”
“…”
Lu Yichuan looked at him exasperatedly. “What are you trying to say?”
Under the light, his face was devoid of color.
Song Zhang’s words of reproach died in his throat. After a long while, he sighed. “You didn’t answer your phone, so Jiang Xingbai called me. It’s his birthday in a couple of days. He asked me to tell you.”
Lu Yichuan responded lazily, not seeming to care.
Song Zhang couldn’t help but say, “Don’t be like this. Because…he’s been walking on eggshells these past few years, afraid of accidentally reminding someone of the sad past. Ultimately, none of this has anything to do with him. He’s the victim. Don’t treat him like this…”
Lu Yichuan shifted his position. “Haven’t I been good enough to him? Have I given him too little money? Or too few gifts?”
Song Zhang: “You know that’s not what I mean…”
“Song Zhang,” Lu Yichuan interrupted him, “do you want to hear the truth?”
Song Zhang was taken aback.
Then he heard the man beside him chuckle, his voice soft and low.
“Honestly, every time I see him, I wish he were dead.”
“From age three to eighteen, I was the one who celebrated Rongrong’s birthday with him. His so-called parents didn’t even bother with a greeting on his birthday. Now that Jiang Xingbai is back, they feel guilty, so they’re showering him with all the missing love.”
“Everyone thinks he stole the love that originally belonged to Jiang Xingbai, but he never received that so-called love for eighteen years, so what is there to be guilty about?”
“He doesn’t owe them anything. If anyone owes anything…”
It’s them who owe him.
The reclining man suddenly clutched the armrest and bent over, coughing violently, as if trying to cough up his lungs.
He finally grabbed the trash can and vomited.
Song Zhang was startled. He poured a glass of water, stood beside him, and patted his back. “Are you alright?”
Lu Yichuan reeked of alcohol, but his face was as pale as paper. He pulled out a tissue and wiped his hands. “I’m fine.”
“Fine, my ass!” Song Zhang cursed. “I can see blood streaks in the vomit in the trash can. And you call this fine?”
Lu Yichuan took the glass and rinsed his mouth, smiling indifferently. “I’m not going to die.”
He put the glass down, stood up, and grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go. I need a shower.”
Seeing him stagger, Song Zhang, like a mother hen, went over to support him. “Why did you even buy this low-end club? The private rooms don’t even have bathrooms, and the décor is ridiculously outdated. I feel embarrassed even coming here to find you.”
The man leaned against his shoulder with his eyes closed, seemingly asleep.
Song Zhang: “…”
He helped him out of the club and leaned him against a tree by the roadside. “This crappy place doesn’t even have a parking lot. I parked at the mall next door. I’ll go get the car. Can you wait here for me?”
Lu Yichuan removed his hand from Song Zhang’s shoulder, leaned against the tree, and lifted his chin slightly. “Go ahead.”
Song Zhang: “…”
Am I your servant?!
But he still went.
It was late at night, and there were few people and cars on the road. The wind was still cold, and the moon hung quietly in the sky.
The cold wind sobered Lu Yichuan up a bit. His stomach throbbed with pain, but he ignored it, just staring at the moon.
The moon was still the same moon; there seemed to be no difference between four years ago and now.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter.
His slender fingers held the cigarette, the scarlet flame flickering in the wind. Lu Yichuan looked up at the sky, his face obscured by smoke. In the hazy light and shadow, he pulled the corners of his lips into a smile.
Uglier than crying.
